the right direction
by houghtonsbeckett
Summary: Season 4 AU. They needs to point themselves in the right direction. Gratuitous smutfic. M.


**Season 4 AU. They need to point themselves in the right direction. Gratuitous smutfic.**

_the right direction_  
chapter one

She doesn't know what they are.

* * *

"Hey Beckett, Castle's invited us to The Old Haunt for drinks tonight to celebrate closing the case – get your coat." Ryan's head is stuck sideways round the corner of the bullpen entrance, Espo and Castle appearing behind him shortly after.

"That's alright Ryan, I think I'm just going to stay here, finish the paperwork. But you go, have fun –" She tries, but Javi cuts her off.

"Come oooonnnn, Beckett!" Espo practically whines at her. His lower lip was turned inside out in what she guessed was the puppy dog face Lanie had often complained he used on her.

"The boys ask you about drinks tonight?" Castle enquired. He already had her jacket folded over his arm.

"Yes, but she says she's got paperwork to do..." Ryan complained.

"C'mon, Beckett – I'll do it for you tomorrow morning. Just come out with us." Espo is concerned as always about her lack of social life.

"Please?" Asks Castle, and with that she's broken. How can she resist those eyes. She stands up, uses the keyboard shortcut to log out, and pulls her coat off his arm.

"Alright..." She grumbles, not even bothering to hide her smile at the thought of spending some time with her favourite boys.

* * *

The Old Haunt is relatively packed when they come in, and Castle heads straight over to the bar while they take their seats in their special booth. Most of the seats in the bar are taken, but this booth is always kept clear. There's room for seven or eight people to snuggle up closely, or just the four of them if they spread out and put their feet up. It's not too long before Castle makes his way over to them and slips into his usual seat next to Beckett. His seating choice is something that didn't change when they went their separate ways, after all – it was their seating arrangement before they got together. She doesn't shuffle down when he sits, so all though they've both got plenty of space, their thighs align on the red leather of the booth, the warmth of Castle's leg seeping through Kate's jeans. She holds back a hum. She always did like him against her.

"What you order us, Castle?" Espo asks. He looks slightly suspicious, because a few weeks ago Castle brought him a special concoction of his own creation, which had him retching for five minutes.

"Nothing weird, don't worry Javi. But I did try and surprise you guys." He looks so excited, like he's waiting for them to open their presents.

"Oh brother..." Kate looks at him worriedly. But then Louis comes across with a tray of what looks like surprisingly normal drinks. "You've outdone yourself, Castle."

"You ain't seen nothing yet..." He grins and slides her glass towards her. It's filled with a deep red murky substance. She lifts it to her lips hesitantly and takes a sip. She's immediately hit with the bite of sour cherry. Her eyes flit to him instantly. Last time she had one of these were when they went on a little evening outing to a nightclub. She doesn't dwell too much on the story, although she knows it had a happy ending. Of course, she can't get the events of that night out of her head. Did he do that deliberately? She chances another glance over at him where he's nursing his whiskey with a twist. He quirks his eyebrows above dark pupils. Yes, yes he did.

Espo and Ryan are enjoying some new house gin Castle ordered in especially for guests such as them. They make appreciative hums and the booth is silent while they down their first drinks. They're not massive drinkers, any of them – but they do let loose occasionally, while retaining their responsibility. Castle could tell the first time he brought them here that they had gone out on nights out before, and had quickly ascertained that Beckett regularly drank them under the table.

He is pulled from his thoughts by Beckett's glass hitting the table. He hops up quickly and grabs something else from the bar that he had ordered in advance. She always did finish first. He eyes her with a challenge as he slinks over from the bar, and her eyes widen as the small tray he's carrying hits the table. It has new drinks for Espo and Ryan on it - scotch, by the looks of it – and then a dish of limes, a salt shaker and a bottle of tequila with two shot glasses lined up innocently next it. Her eyebrows raise but she quickly pours herself a shot, accepting the challenge.

Ryan has to go then, and since Espo doesn't want to intrude in what he can tell is a private moment between them, he makes his excuses then grabs his coat. Suddenly it's just them and the drinks left in the booth, but neither makes any move to spread out and fill the space that Javi and Kevin have left.

Castle picks up the salt shaker with a grace one wouldn't expect from his broad frame, sprinkling a line of salt down Beckett's bare, outstretched forearm. She grins, remembers the last time they did this, then lowers her lips to her arm. Her pink tongue peeks out from between her lips and traces the trail from the crook of her elbow to her wrist, before she quickly picks up the shot glass and slams it back. Castle's palm holds the lime to her mouth and she sucks hard, the squeeze of her lips causing lime juice to run down Castle's hand and wrist. She pulls back from the lime itself, lowering her face to lick the juice off his hand. She can barely see the blue in his eyes anymore as her eyes remain glued to his as she licks and sucks at his skin. With one last flick of her tongue against his index finger, she pulls back, admiring the dazed look on his face.

She looks at him innocently, as if she has no idea what she's just done, like she hasn't just practically fellated his hand. He wants to kiss the smirk off her face. Instead, he pours himself his own shot, the bottle hitting the table with a decided thump as he reaches for the salt shaker, only to find she's already brandishing it before him. He rolls up the sleeve of his button down (one of the ones she's worn before. He was devastated when he realized he had washed it and it no longer smelt of her) and offers his forearm to her. She takes the wrist that she licked not two minutes ago and sprinkles a similar trail of salt to the one she had worn onto him.

By the time she's picked up the lime ready for him to suck, he's raised his arm to his mouth. He licks slowly and tantalizingly, like he used to on her skin. When he reaches the top, he downs the shot quickly before turning towards her. She offers him the lime in her hand, and brings it towards his mouth. He barely keeps up the pretense of lime-sucking for five seconds before he pulls it away with his teeth and makes her drop it to the table. After that, he takes her index finger into his mouth, gently biting down on her fingertip before soothing the pad with his tongue. He swirls his tongue around it before releasing it. She doesn't think she can handle the same treatment for the rest of her fingers, so she pulls back.

For a moment he's worried he's pushed too far, but he soon sees the look in her eyes. I want you. His suspicions are confirmed when she grasps his hand with one of hers, and with the other picks up her coat. She wants to take him home.

* * *

Her back hits the door with a thud to push it closed, and he immediately tackles the buttons on her coat. With an ease he hasn't demonstrated in too, too long, it opens quickly and hits the floor.

"You're wearing too many clothes. " He complained, seeing her sweater, another barrier between their skin.

"You're one to talk," She whispered. He always looked good in his suit jackets, the lapels framing his broad shoulders, but now she wanted him out of it. He pulled his arms from his jacket, letting it slip to the floor quickly, and she ran her hands up his biceps, feeling the firm muscle. He never faltered, pulling the sweater over his head swiftly and admiring the sheer burgundy button down underneath. His hot fingers untuck it from her jeans and his palms slipped up under the hem, finding the smooth plane of her stomach. She shivered, looking up at him briefly before pulling at his own shirt in frustration.

"Get this _off."_ She muttered, yanking at the collar in a way that brought his body flush against hers. His hands came up to wrap around her wrists, taking care of his own buttons. The moment they revealed the skin of his chest, she yanked once more to pull it over his head. His arms stretched up with the confines of the fabric, his muscles flexing -

"Castle." She whispers. This is not the man she first took to bed with, that she's been sleeping with sporadically for the last two months before a longer break because of a tough case. "You've been holding out on me." His chest it more defined than last she saw it, his biceps larger and she can only imagine the increased strength that his thighs can give her. She steps forward, her hand bringing his forearm to her lips. She presses a kiss there, and gives his other bicep the same treatment. She looks up at him through dark, fluttering lashes, and he moves to undo the buttons of her own shirt. He deftly flicks open the first three but soon abandons the other out of impatience, reaching for the hem and yanking it over her head. When her torso is revealed to him, her bra a shade of deep lavender framing her breasts, he pushes his upper body against hers, his warm skin firm against her chest, the lace of her bra slightly scratching against his nipples. Her mouth attaches to his firmly, her lips open at first contact and she sucks his lower lip between hers. He moans, his arms coming up to wrap around her, but as her tongue enters his mouth he grunts and his hands pull back around to trace circles up from the jut of her hipbones.

She arches into him when his hands reach her breasts, only lightly pressing into them through her bra, and her hands leave their place on his back to reach behind her, desperately pulling at the clasp until it finally comes undone and she can untangle her arms from it. It hits the floor and immediately he crouches, head coming to rest at her clavicle as his nose tickles the mottled skin of her scar. He did this nearly every time, like he's tracing lines that once kept them apart. _This is where I almost lost you. This is how I know you're still here. _A few moments pass before she gets restless, hands tracing up his arms and shoulders, skipping up the taut muscles of his neck and winding into his hair. She tries to hold him closer, tell him _I'm still here. I'm still here, _but must of all she just wants him to touch her. As if sensing it, a hand creeps up to her right breast, thumb rubbing circles on the outermost side.

She hums her agreement, and soon another hand creeps up her other side to mirror its twin. His head sinks down and then his mouth taking a nipple inside, sucking while he kneads her, her soft flesh filling his warm hands. With an almost imperceptible press of his teeth he turns his attention to the other side, giving the same treatment again. Never letting her go, he glances up at her and sees her brow knit in a look that is similar to the one of her concentration, but is accompanied by sighs of pleasure. Releasing her with a wet pop, he kneels down before her and carefully pulls her heels out of her shoes, placing them neatly to the side of the door. He pulls his feet out of his own shoes, and when he draws back up to her level his line of sight is directed slightly downwards to meet hers. Her eyes are dark and feral as she pulls him against her, lips locking with his and her tongue slides inside quickly to tangle with his.

It feels like she's _climbing _up him so he guides his hand to her thigh and hitches it at his hip, the move pressing her closer to his growing erection. She feels a rush of heat to her core as she feels him against her, and her other leg wraps around his waist to lock ankles at the small of his back. Her head is above his when he turns away from the door and begins the journey across his living room. He would so love to not have to bother with having to go past the couch but he doesn't know when his mother will come home and he does not want to have to stop in the middle of the act to move or look embarrassed They make it past the door of his study when he pulls away from her lips and attacks the line of her throat, tongue tickling her pulse point. She arches against him, causing her hips to rock against his which draws a groan from both of them. She distractedly notices they're not heading through to his bedroom and then her ass hits the desk as he sets her down and presses more firmly between her legs.

Her hands pull his large frame closer still to her, clawing at his back, her nails digging into the warm flesh of his neck. This only serves to spur him on, kissing her harder, more deeply. When she groans in the way that he's always loved ever since their first kiss, he pulls away, hands flying to the space between her legs where his hips were previously pressed. He scrabbles at the button on her pants, his arousal making him uncoordinated. She has to assist him, and fails to stifle a moan when, as soon as she pops the button open, his hand dives into her trousers, seeking out her warm heat.

"Kate..." He hums, feeling her wetness through the lace of her panties.

"Off, Castle. Take them off..." She mutters frustratedly, fingers gripping his wrists and moving his hands to the waistband of his trousers. He complies immediately, hastily pulling them over her hips as she leans back on his desk to allow him to pull them all the way down her legs. As soon as they clear her ankles he tosses them backwards over his shoulder and sinks to his knees in front of her. His pinkies dip into the elastic of her underwear and he tugs them down slowly, meeting her eyes as they slip over the smooth expanse of her skin. She's looking at him like she wants to climb him like a tree, and as he parts her legs gently and lowers his mouth towards her, she grips the back of his head and tugs him up suddenly.

"No, Castle, I-" He understands immediately. He leans in to kiss her and she wraps her long legs around his waist. Then he's moving, moving quickly through the doorway to his bedroom and before she knows it they're sinking onto his bed, his bazillion thread-count sheets caressing the backs of her thighs. "Please, Castle - Quickly." He doesn't think he's ever seen her this desperate before, and there is no way he can refuse her. He rolls off her and grapples with his belt, shedding his trousers quickly and then she's climbing into the vee of his legs and pulling his boxers down his legs until he springs free. She rises above him, and then she's sinking down on him, taking him deep inside of her, and jesusfuck she feels perfect. It's been a little while for them and they are both gasping even before she starts to move over him.

"Kate... oh fuck, Kate." He grunts as she twists her hips above him, and then he loses it, meeting her thrust for thrust, rising to meet her. She keens, her hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh. His own hands move to her waist, guiding her hips as they keep their own rhythm. She leans forwards to meet his lips for a long slow kiss, her tongue slipping inside his mouth sweetly, and then she's gone, leaning backwards over him. She braces her hands on his knees and pushes forwards and downwards onto him. They both groan, the angle working for both of them. When she next twists her hips in the way she knows he loves, he lets out a breath she didn't even see him holding, and she knows he's close. She uses her own strength to bring herself back up towards his body until her head is nestled on his shoulder. She turns towards him and traces the shell of his ear with her tongue before whispering in his ear.

"Come for me, Castle..." He grunts, holding himself back until she knows she's with him.

"Not without you, Kate." The strain of holding back is making him tense up, but they keep on moving together.

"I'm right there with you, Rick." His hips jerk into her at that, making her gasp as her head stutters and falls. "Fuck, I'm..." she takes the flesh of his shoulder between her teeth and bites down hard, stifling a scream as her walls convulse around him.

"Jesus, I..." He's right there with her, her release pulling his from him. He falls back onto the bed, pulling her with him.

When they catch their breath they just lay there, occasionally humming in a post-coital haze. They don't talk about this pseudo-relationship they're in, this muddle of boundaries.

* * *

In the morning when she gets the call that signals a body drop, they only talk the semantics of dropping her off at her apartment so she can change before work. 40 minutes later, he shows up at the scene with coffees. He greets her with a wink and she bites her lip and smiles, looking at her shoes.

_Tonight?_

_Tonight._


End file.
